


The Shift Rota

by okapi



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, M/M, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 06:56:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21249284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/okapi/pseuds/okapi
Summary: Small business owner Thorin has a problem. He goes to the Small Hobbit Café to ruminate on it and gets a helping hand (and some pie) from the owner.Bagginshield. Modern AU Meet-cute fluff.





	The Shift Rota

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Small_Hobbit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Small_Hobbit/gifts).

> Happy birthday! Many returns of the day!

Thorin realised his mistake as soon as he peered over the hedge constructed from potted shrubs.

He shouldn’t have listened to Dís. Absurd to think he could get any real work, important, thoughtful work done, at a café.

“You’ve been fiddling with it all morning,” she whined. “Why don’t you pack up your papers, go across the street, have a bit of lunch, and work it out there? A change of scenery would do you a world of good and get you out of my hair.”

Thorin had grumbled and protested but he’d had to admit to himself that he wasn’t making any progress whatsoever in his darkened office, so, at last, he’d been swayed.

But no.

This place was too loud and too crowded. The waitstaff were buzzing around like bees.

Just as Thorin was about to beat a hasty retreat, he heard a voice.

“Hullo! Looking for a quiet corner?”

Thorin grunted. He wasn’t going to charmed by any chirruping waiter, no matter how honeyed his speech or, he considered, how interesting the colour of his eyes.

“There’s an area over here. One table left. A small table for one. Or two.”

Thorin nodded and let himself be led.

It _was_ much quieter in the back. The few tables were hidden by even thicker rows of potted foliage which encircled the entire space, save for one gap. The other patrons were absorbed in books and newspapers and mobiles and tablets. They appeared to want as little to do with Thorin as he wanted to do with them.

As Thorin settled himself, the waiter said, “Busy day. Shepherd’s pie day always is. We’ve the best in the valley.”

“Really. How many shepherds do you put in it?”

The waiter blinked. Then he laughed a laugh that made his face crinkle, mirth rising all the way up to gemstone eyes.

Garnet? Smoky quartz? Thorin couldn’t decide. Topaz, maybe. He allowed his expression to soften to an almost-smile. “That’s fine. Coffee, too, please.”

“Right away.”

Thorin sighed at his files.

Sometime later, he was startled out of his fog by a now-familiar chirrup.

“Coffee.”

“Thank you.” He moved the papers aside to make space for the cup.

“Working hard, are you?”

Thorin gave him a look that said he rarely worked otherwise.

The waiter wiped his hands on the back of his trousers and smiled. “It’s just that I think, forgive me, you might be the fellow who’s going to open the jewelry shop across the street,” he extended his hand, “I’m Bilbo, the Small Hobbit of this ‘Small Hobbit’s Café.’”

“The owner?”

“Yes.” The pride in the reply was unmistakable.

“Thorin Oakenshield,” said Thorin, shaking the hand. “And, yes, the shop’s supposed to open next week if,” he hit a frustrated fist on the papers before him, “I can get this blasted shift rota set.”

“Oh, yeah, those are tricky.”

“I have plenty of staff, but it’s like arranging a puzzle. All the pieces have to fit.”

“Yeah, say,” Bilbo glanced at the gap in the hedges. “Give me a few minutes. I’ll bring your pie and maybe I could help?”

Thorin looked doubtful.

“Look at this café, Mister Oakenshield. It takes a lot of people to keep this place going. You describe the pieces of your puzzle and I’ll see if I can help you put them in the frame, and if I can’t well, then your lunch is on the house. What do you say?”

Thorin tilted his head to one side and said, “I say, ‘Bring me your baked shepherds and some lemonade.'”

Four hours later, Fili was clearing away a plate that had once been piled high with scones, an empty pitcher and glasses which had once been filled with lemonade, and no fewer than three bowls which had held mounds of shepherd’s pie.

Thorin and Bilbo didn’t notice. They were embroiled in a heated argument.

“Mister Baggins, you must allow me to compensate you for this meal! Those were the terms of our agreement!”

“Mister Oakenshield, it is my gift to you. Consider it a warm ‘welcome to the neighbourhood.’”

“No! You have done me a great service. You don’t know how many hours I’ve spent pouring over this shift rota. It was the last thing I needed to put in place before the grand opening. And you’ve been so kind and helpful in assisting me in sorting it out. I can’t trespass on your time, abuse your expertise, _and _steal your inventory!”

“I’ll only accept an invitation to your grand opening. And, uh, I’d like it if you called me Bilbo.”

Thorin chuckled and nodded. “Thorin.”

They shook hands again.

Thorin packed up his papers and rose to leave, thinking he’d have something very special, indeed, for Mister Magic Eyes by the grand opening.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
